Yesterday while Dawn and I were taking the trash out, I fell on the loading dock and crashed against the trash compactor leaving me with a few nasty bruises on my arms, a wicked gash/bruise on my left hand, an ugly bruise on my hip, and bruised ribs. When I crashed into the trash compactor I made a terrible gasping noise. You know the sound you make when you've gotten the wind knocked out of you? Like you've got the dry heaves? I made that sound for a few minutes, but it felt like forever. Dawn was freaking out, and I told her in a strangled voice "Can't. Breathe. Oh God." The incident scared the shit out of her, and me. Once we got back inside, Steph and Joe were hovering around me, trying to make sure I was ok and filling out the incident report. Joe gave me Tylenol and a Band-Aid for my hand, and they insisted that I go to a nearby clinic and get checked out. I called my mom and told her what happened, and then I left a message for John to see if he could give me a ride from B&N to the clinic. Joe and Steph said they'd take care of my drawer and that they'd punch me out at 5:30. When I left everyone told me that they hoped I was ok, and to let them know how I was. It was really nice to see how great they were, Joe said that they didn't like seeing their people get hurt. Both management and regular staff were genuinely concered and it meant a lot to me to see that. While I was in the break room John called me and asked how I was and said he was just leaving work, and that he'd be there about half an hour later. Around 4:45 we went into the clinic. When the creepy looking nurse called me back, the Doctor listened to my lungs, then set me up for x-rays. When my x-rays came back, he said that I had a "contusion of the chest wall", and that my lung had expanded but it was nothing serious. He also gave me two bottles of Vicodin, a bottle of ibuprofen and a tetanus shot. I pretty much insisted on the tetanus shot since I'd cut my hand on dirty rusty metal. The cut itself isn't bad at all, I didn't break the skin, but blood welled up underneath the first layer of skin, and my hand swelled like a balloon. They also gave me an ice pack that can be used as a heat pack. We were there for two hours. I was *very* crabby by the time we left. I have a follow-up at the Concentra clinic near my house on Friday afternoon. When we got back home, I curled up in bed to watch some House, and then I talked to Gerry, Mistie, and Chris briefly before returning to the bedroom. I did get a little bit of sleep before Watua decided to act like a retard because Daddy wasn't in the same room with him. John, Chris and I talked for a bit in the living room before John went to bed, and I stayed up for a little while longer talking with Chris before heading to bed myself. This morning Watua ran across my ribs causing me to want to muderize him. >_< I am currently a big ball of fucking sore

Monday John, Trent and I went to Mo's for my birthday lunch. John gave me Snakes On A Muthafuckin Plane and the Big Lebowski soundtrack, and Trent let me pick out a dvd at Borders. I picked out the Invader Zim box set. When we got home after lunch, I watched some Invader Zim while John worked on some jobby stuff and java. He took a break and we watched Snakes On A Muthafuckin Plane. It was in one word: AWESOME. By awesome I mean terrible. I learned from that movie that snakes see green, and that Sam uel L Jackson is still the most badass motherfucker on the planet. I conclude this entry with a burning question: If Mel Gibson and Samuel L Jackson got into a fight who would win? John's answer was "No one, the world loses."